


Freedom

by Titti



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-04
Updated: 2005-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-15 19:43:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titti/pseuds/Titti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian celebrates the 4th of July in his own way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freedom

Outside people were celebrating the 4th of July. Hot dogs and hamburgers grilled in barbecues, Budweisers sipped in the backyard, illegal fireworks that didn't really brighten the sky that much, but that made everyone extremely happy. Outside people lived boring, mundane lives, but inside, in Babylon, men dreamed.

The music pumped non-stop, fast, endless. Confetti fell from the ceiling, sticking to sweaty bodies, creating a magical atmosphere. The lights played their games of hide and seek, painting those muscular men in every color. Men looked at each other, prey and predator in a neverending sexual game that kept the night exciting, until they moved to the backroom to reach another type of excitement. It was a jungle, and each jungle had its king.

Brian Kinney rested against the bar, looking over at his kingdom. He was still the best, and it had nothing to do with holding to his past. It was the truth. It was real. It was electrifying to see men so young, do anything for a fuck with him. Brian was more than happy to oblige them... if they looked good enough to pique his interest.

That's when their eyes met over the crowd of bodies. *Pretty boys* the singer kept repeating, and like he told Ted, you couldn't stop them from getting in. The pretty boys would always find a way, although Brian didn't mind... usually, but Brandon... Brandon was too much like him, the same hunger, the same anger, the same arrogance.

Brandon smiled that half smile half smirk of his. Brian answered in kind. It should have been the end of it, an old script they had been playing since Brian had allowed Brandon back into the club, but this time it was different. Brandon moved with feline grace through the crowd, men giving him room in the hope of a look and a fuck, or even a phone number, but Brandon kept moving until he reached the bar.

He leaned toward the bar keeper, his shoulder bumping against Brian, and they both knew that the hand brushing Brian's thigh was not an accident. Brandon turned around only when he had his order in hand. A cool bottle of Guinness, he handed the second bottle to Brian without a word.

Brian raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask anything, no point in straining his voice over the loud music, not when any question he could have posed would be answered with a lie or a line, because that's what he would have done. He took the beer and took a swig, his eyes still on Brandon.

Brandon half turned, pressing his crotch against Brian's hip. "Shouldn't you do something special for the 4th of July? Give them a gift or something," he said in Brian's ear.

"Them as..." Brian licked his lips while his eyes traveled over the sea of almost naked bodies. "Them?"

"Yeah, them. Give back to the community, share your good fortune and all that bullshit." Brandon put his beer down, before taking Brian's hand and pulling him toward the dance floor.

Brian resisted for a moment, but then he pushed off from the bar while pulling Brandon toward him. He might go along, but no reason to forget who was still in charge here, at least until they started dancing. Then rules went out the window, as their bodies ground and glided against each other. Neither shy to touch and take what he wanted.

Kissing, there was nothing better than kissing for Brian. He kissed his friends, his lovers. He would have kissed the mailman if he looked good enough. Kissing was like breathing for Brian, never enough, never too much. He pressed his lips against Brandon's as their bodies continued to sway at the incessant beat.

Brian could tell that Brandon wasn't a kisser, probably too worried about that sense of intimacy that scared most men, but Brandon wasn't pulling back, not tonight.

Brian didn't have to open his eyes to know that every eye in the club was on them. The two hottest guys in Pittsburgh, the two men who had run their little contest, the two men who were practically having sex on the dance floor. Let them look, after all it was a gift they were bestowing upon mere mortals.

They rocked against each other, until Brian pulled away. He was getting hard. He wasn't going to fuck Brandon, and as sure as hell Brandon wasn't getting near his ass, so this'd better stop here, and he could go find someone, but Brandon held his hand, and leaned closer.

"Name the two hottest guys you see." Brandon saw the amused smile on Brian's face, and leaned back in. "Besides us, of course."

"Of course," Brian repeated, but he doubted his words carried over the music. He was already scanning the room, hawk eyes zeroing in on their prey. He barely nodded, but Brandon was already looking that way.

There was no need to talk. They both knew the game too well. They moved with confidence, shoulder to shoulder, knowing that men would move out of the way without being asked. Brian let go of Brandon's hand as they reached the stairs. He rested it on Brandon's back, ignoring the glare from the younger man, and climbed upstairs.

There was no need to talk. A hand here, a look, a wink, and Brian walked back down, with Brandon right there. Brian had no doubt that the two lucky bastards were following, their dicks leading the way.

Brian pushed the curtain of the backroom, unconsciously taking in everyone who was present, categorizing the ones he had fucked (the majority), the ones he hadn't and would (a few), and the ones he would never touch. Only then he looked for a spot that wasn't already in use.

He leaned against the wall, pulling Brandon to him, kissing him again, daring for the blond to pull away. Brandon shifted to press his back against the wall, but kept their lips together, ignoring the hands that were deftly opening their jeans.

Blow jobs were good, they were fucking perfect when Brian could kiss someone while getting blown, and Brandon had the perfect mouth with the perfect attitude to go with it. Their tongues fought the war they usually faced with words, their teeth scraped tender skin, but never drawing blood, because you could never be too careful.

Brandon looked down at the guy who was blowing Brian, then looked up, and had this satisfied smile on his face, like they were sharing the greatest secret, the meaning of life, and they probably were, because Brian understood. It was all here, as he forgot about the world and everything narrowed to this moment, a guy on his knees sucking him off, and another one kissing him.

When he thought things couldn't get any better, he felt Brandon press against him, shivering as he reached orgasm. It was petty, it was insignificant, but Brian smiled at the knowledge that he had lasted longer, that Brandon was reaching for him when coming. Insignificant and petty, but it made Brian's orgasm all the sweeter.

Brian zipped his jeans up, before grabbing Brandon's hand and pulling him outside, leaving the two men to fend for themselves. He wrapped his arm loosely around Brandon's neck as they walked to the dance floor, but it looked like a stream of water moving toward the exit.

"Fireworks," Brandon mouthed over the music.

Brian nodded, and walked toward the exit with Brandon in tow. Everyone was looking at the sky, watching as white, blue and red melted into the night sky, lightening it with streaks of green and pinks. "They're just lights."

"Yeah, but they fucking look good," Brandon answered.

"Only for a short time. They brighten the sky before disappearing forever"

"Really? Must be similar to the way you feel, then."

Brian snorted. "I think we have proven just who is the best around here."

"For now." Brandon wrapped his hand around Brian's waist. "What do you say if in the spirit of the holidays, we call for a truce?"

"Why should I? I still own your ass... at least for a night... or a day," Brian answered grinning.

"You had your chance."

Brian could almost touch the anger, and it only made him smile more. "All right, I guess I can be magnanimous, teach you a few tricks or two, just as long as you understand that I'm not going anywhere."

Brian looked up at the sky. No, he never liked fireworks or falling stars. He didn't look up at the sky to enjoy his life. His eyes went back to Babylon. That was where he belonged; that was where his life was.

This wasn't about holding to the past. This wasn't about planning for the future. This was living in the present, fighting against the chains of common morality and old-fashioned rules. This was about true freedom, the freedom to love and to fuck, the freedom to enjoy life to the fullest, the freedom to be who he was. If his friends couldn't understand... he turned his head and saw Brandon smirked back, there was always someone who did.


End file.
